Nivenh'Mia stifled a yawn as she brought her knuckle down on the door, gently announcing her intentions before opening the door. She had not thought herself to be as tired as she had found herself when she had curled up in a dark corner. Her sleep had been deep and uninterrupted until Evan's presence had waken her. He might just have been checking in on her, but he had almost earned himself a bruise for it.

Luckily the mercenary had recognized him short of contact, and had informed her that their unexpected guest needed a shirt. He looked up at her now as she entered the room and she took the folded garment out from beneath her arm. "Here," she said shortly and tossed it at him.

She had the impression from the glance at his broad bare chest and toned arms that he was no paper pusher, he probably knew how to wield a sword, but she did not stare. She heard the fabric hit the man's bare chest but already she was heading to the corner of the room where Jeroff Trizidad lay.

Nivenh'Mia fell to a crouch, feeling the stranger's eyes on her back. This was as much a test of the strange man's character as it was not. Her eyes might be on Jeroff, but after hearing his steady breathing, all of her other senses focused on the man behind her.

The mercenary's hand traced the faint lines that still marred the Trizidad's face. They had not been easy on him. He looked worn and tired, even in sleep. She sighed and supposed some of that had to do with the Aes Sedai's healing. She had not had time to thank the woman for healing her own wounds. And she was not sure she wanted to.

Jeroff would be hungry when he awoke, she knew. Evan had told her there was food already in a travel sack, but knowing the brown haired man's normal appetite, it would not be enough. She pulled the sack from her shoulder and set it down next to him, as well as two water bottles. She placed one next to the bag of food.

She heard the same fabric shuffle and assumed that he had pulled it over his head. She have overestimated his size, and the shirt was likely too large, but it was better than being too small. And it was clean.

He was ready to catch the second bottle when she tossed it his way. "Is there anything else you need right now?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Then I may be back later, if he is not." She did not bother saying who would be back. It was not a threat, but they had things to do and who would check in on one interloper would be decided by Evan.

----- X-Day Minus Fourteen Days -----

"Well he's been all over the island in the last three days," Jasin commented as he beat dust into clothing hanging from the wall. It was nothing fancy, what you'd see on every citizen on the streets, liable to be from any culture they happen to have been raised from. He'd also managed to color his hair so it was a much lighter shade of brown, almost looking like a dirty blonde. Jax, Nivenh'Mia, and Amalia were standing in the room behind him, giving him a rundown of the interrogations of the last day. They were pressed for time so the briefing was at the same time he was getting ready to get tossed in the cell. Travis and Jeroff were down at the crate playing guard for their prisoner, dressed in their uniforms, Matthias was on his break from the whole mess.

"There's no record of the ship in the harbor records though," Amalia said as Jasin turned the clothes around to start messing up the back side. "Not a very well made cover story if he didn't throw out a name that at least exists."

"It's not much of a hole though," Jasin briefed her. "Smugglers are really creative when it comes to keeping their ships out of the hands of authorities."

"The dockhands would know," she returned.

"Yup," Jasin told her. "That principle in mind, we can also go around to the places he's visited and ask about him." He started changing into the messed up clothing, a piece at a time so at any given moment he merely looked underdressed. He talked through their varied reactions, not really paying attention. "Go to where he says he's been, drop his description and only his description. No hints on when you think he's been there. See if they give you a date outside our range. It's something to use against him when he's in the interrogation seat."

When he was done changing, he messed with a chain hanging around his neck, taking it off. There was a ring dangling from it, a simple gold band. He held it out to Amalia, "Can you hold onto it for me 'til we're done with this?" She took it and Jasin approached Jax, stretching his arms and neck as he did so. "Alright," he muttered. "You guys captured me. I need to look captured. Bloody me up a bit."

With a shrug and a casual smirk, Jax took a hard jab at Jasin's jaw and the man tasted blood from a torn lip. "I like this part of the job," Nivenh'Mia commented with a slight chuckle. At a nod, Jax swung again, a hook into his right cheek, leaving Jasin stumbling for a step. A bruise would be forming at that one. As he straightened, Nivenh'Mia took a few steps and swung hard at his nose. There wasn't the crack of broken bone, but it didn't sound pretty. Jasin was caught off guard and on the floor.

He got to his feet, cursing up a short scream, and holding his nose to keep blood from going everywhere. "Light, woman! What was that for?!" he shouted, staring daggers at her.

"He missed a spot," she said with a smirk and a shrug.

"Yea, whatever," he muttered. Amalia was even holding back a smile. "Let me see one of your knives," he held out the hand he was holding his nose shut with. It started bleeding again, slowly down his face and eventually getting on his shirt. She handed him a knife and he made a shallow cut on his left gut, superficial at best. But it bled a bit, adding more to the disguise. He slammed it down point first into a block of wood, leaving it stuck there. The nosebleed was about done.

"Alright," Jasin said in an exasperated tone as Nivenh'Mia yanked her knife out. "Anybody else have any details they think should be added to my disguise?" He looked at them all, face to face, for a second. "No? Good. Now let's talk strategy for five seconds before you, literally, throw me in there. It's not going to be pretty. The idea is to make him think that I believe it's his fault I got captured. This will piss him off." He glanced around again, "There will be a fight. Let it finish itself. I need him to think that he needs me or he won't trust me at all." He led them downstairs to the aisle leading to the crate. He held up his arms to Jax and Nivenh'Mia, and spoke in a light Amadician accent, "Alright. Take me in."

The rim of her hat concealed her face. Gray was the color of the day, and other muted shades of brown. She wore them over her usual body wrapping so the harsher material would not chafe her skin. Her lips compressed with displeasure- her skin still burned from where the uniform had touched her skin. Nivenh’Mia wished it would have occurred to her to wear her regular clothes beneath the uniform. That idea had only occurred to her upon waking this morning, before she had been given these clothes and her assignment from Evan.

A damp wind blew off the water and blew up in her face in spite of her upturned collar and head protection. She wiped her hand across her cheek. It had been like this all day, at least, ever since she had made her way to the docks. Her mission was a simple one, to follow up on the information Evan had wrangled out of his cellmate.

While the dreary and misting weather left much to be desired, it was still better, in her opinion, than to be waiting in the warehouse with Jeroff lurking by. Blast him anyway, the fool he'd made of her to his brother, Justen, for not being dead like she had thought he had been. What a fool she must have sounded to Justen, I'm sorry but your brother is dead. And then to find out he was not dead, but that he was in this cursed city, which he had come to with that frizzled haired...girl. The girl's face was almost familiar to her, but it remained out of reach. Young, silly, and loitering nearby to hear of anything about Jeroff...undoubtedly the thing was infatuated with the man. It seemed like most women were.

The mercenary snorted softly. She shook her head and dislodged the thoughts. The brown haired Trizidad was reckless, that much was for certain. Getting himself caught and beaten was a sure sign he would soon enough stumble into his own demise.

She scowled at her surroundings. The hour was waning near dusk, she had been about it all day, tracking down what she could about their guest of honor. There was very little to be found. If it were not for the obvious description of the Whitecloak in their care, she would have found herself at a dead end. The last time anyone had seen their guest was three days ago.

She had been to several places of interest, inns on the warf, and other establishment, chatting it up with its patrons in search of answers to their questions, of the nine she had been instructed to visit. This was the third, and she had been loitering here for some time. She found it interesting that a third of the individuals she spoke to whose description of the Whitecloak was spot on, also broke the Whitecloaks alibi by sighting the man outisde of the dates the man had given them.

Another gust of wind blew another spatter of moisture in her face and she decided to seek refuge in the inn. Inside, she shook the water off her hat. She found a seat at the long bar and took to bantering lightly with the barkeeper and owner and tipped heavily after eating a bowl of the house soup. Her generousity in sharing the coin Evan had given her opened up an easy breeze of conversation. After a spell Nivenh'Mia dropped the man's description, but neither the owner nor the girls that worked the room had anything new to say to her.

She bought drinks for a couple of the inn's regular patrons and they warmed up to her, even though the mercenary had the feeling they were trying to guage how attractive she was beneath her bulky clothes. She let them wonder, it put their mind elsewhere and they answered her unobtrusive questions easily.

It did not crop up anything new, however, and after a time she broke her gaze from the manotony of slurred speech and obviously overexagerated feats the men had accomplished in their hayday, and turned her attention to the room. As the hour got later, the tavern had become more packed.

Her gaze swept over him on its first few passes, but inexplicably returned to one particular smoothed- face individual. Her purple eyes narrowed. She remembered seeing him when she had first passed through the main room to the bar. To remain here so long was suspicious. To be staring at her so bluntly was....

He bolted.

Nivenh'Mia's nose twitched with intrigue as she launched herself from the bar in persuit. Finally. Perhaps here was a piece of what she was searching for. He had to shove his way through the packed room. The man was obviously an amature- he bowled straight into people instead of sidling between patrons. It did not hurt to constantly mutter apologies and flash wide smiles either.

She was half a dozen steps behind him when he broke through the crowd and disappeared out the front door. Exiting into the night, she paused to draw in a breath of fresh air, untainted by the smell of multiple cigars, unwashed drunken bodies in a poorly ventalated establishment. This was not a very well lit part of town, shadows clung to everything and within those shadows she could feel hungry eyes watching the movement of every innocent or not so innocent mark in the light.

If he had even a bit of smarts, she might have lost him right there. But even if she had closed her eyes and ran blindly after him, she would have been able to make out his flat-footed departure, and she darted after him. She focused first on speed, hoping to catch up with him, and then after a spell, after he darted down a darkened alley and on to another, even poorer lit street, she changed her tactics and quieted her running steps, listening for the moment that he figured himself safe and slowed his loud, obnoxoius dash.

The last slap was the sharpest and she stoped half a step later, dancing out of the streetlight she had found herself in and pressed against the nearest shadow. The sound, echoing off the buildings, had distorted the distance between them. Quieting her footsteps had kept the distance even between them, but she had not gained ground on him.

She could almost see the thoughts bouncing around in his undoubtedly cluttered mind. Well, perhaps there was something lodged there, amid the junk, that would be of some use. When the man turned and started to walk at an easy pace, Nivenh'Mia followed him quickly in the shadows. Several times he glanced over his shoulder, but not once did he pick out her frozen form. Even when she was right behind him, he looked right through her, his gaze seeking the sound a scurrying rat had kicked up in the gutter.

When she was close enough to tap his shoulder, she did so.

He gasped and struck out blindly. It was a brief struggle and soon enough he was groaning and sprawled on the cobblestone. Nivenh'Mia ran the butt of her palm over her lower lip and frowned when it came away wet. Flailing idiot though he was, he had managed to land a couple of decent blows. She bent, grabbing him by the collar and hefting him to his feet. She wrenched his arm behind his back as a make-shift lead.

She eyed the shadows to either side of there wherein shapes were beginning to shift and take notice of the action. Nivenh'Mia unsheathed one of her daggers and let its wicked blade glean in the light and she realized she really ought to have chased her quarry elsewhere. She sighed. Why could things not be simple and easy?

Matthias leaned against the wall inside the crate, looking through one of the windows to the inner chamber where Jasin and the Whitecloak were still having a friendly conversation, their similar wounds by their jailors making them kin in circumstance. The Asha'man had been watching the Tower's man work their captive for some time now. He had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that the man was good. If he had not had long calm conversations with Jasin, Matthias would have suspected both men in the crate to be conspiring, and hiding conspiracy.

The only sound in the soundproof room that Matthias occupied came from the only other occupant in this section of the crate. Amalia, quill pen in hand, parchment resting on a makeshift table was writing furiously every few minutes when something their man said caused the other to say something that might be useful to them. He clenched and unclenched his hand, his own hand complaining at the fevered pace at which she wrote.

"Think you he's almost done milking the man yet?" Matthias held back a yawn. He had been at it for some time, and while it was entertaining, it had been going on for some time now. That was the fifth long sheet Amalia had pulled from the pile beneath. And her handwriting was rather small. From his position of leaning a few feet away, her hasty scribblings looked like no more than an army of ants marching across the page.

The Aes Sedai did not respond beyond a subtle shake of her head that caused a few of the locks pinned to the top of her head to wiggle. She started to raise her head, as if to say something, but their captive within started talking again, at a pace Matthias would not have thought possible for human lips to speak at, much less for Amalia to write at. He wondered if she was cheating, writing only every several words. It was a lucky thing he was not writing, he might not have even gotten in every three.

His attention was diverted from the inner chamber by a quiet knock on the outer chamber. The sound would not have been heard in the inner chamber , the sound proofing weaves made certain of that. Matthias straightened after a second, Amalia did not even pause in her scritching.

He blinked, coming out of the chamber. While a small orb of light had hovered over Amalia to help her with her work, the light had been dull and just enough for the Aes Sedai to write by. The warehouse, even with its windows darkened against curious eyes, was far lighter than the interior of the crate.

When his vision cleared, he looked at the guard who had knocked. Jax stepped back and gestured to where someone was returning. Matthias's lips parted in surprise. It was Nivenh'Mia and it looked as if she had dragged herself through half the wastrel thick taverns in Tar Valon. Her tanned skin sported several bruises that she had acquired since the last time he had healed her. He scratched his eyebrow as she crossed the open space in front of the crate. There was a distinct limp to her step.

"What in the world- What happened to you? And why in the Blight can't you stay out of trouble?" he snapped, though he was a little concerned. He pushed a chair away from the table with his foot for her to fall into. She took it up with a thankful sigh and Matthias gestured for one of the guards to have Amalia retrieve Jasin.

It took a few minutes, Amalia had to enter the chamber and strong-armed Jasin out of the room to keep his cover. That meant a few more random slaps to get him to talk before they really went to work on him.

At least, in the eyes of their real captive.

Jasin was rubbing a newly placed bruise on his jaw line when the door to the crate opened. He went through the same ritual Matthias had in letting his eyes become accustomed to the dark before they settled on the mercenary. He looked her up and down before saying wryly, "You really should stop picking fights with men bigger than you."

Matthias folded his arms, not saying anything though his expression showed he was thinking the same thing.

Nivenh'Mia made a rude noise, "Most are bigger than me. It is when I am come upon by a pack that I have trouble standing my ground. But I was not about to let go of this particular parcel," her purple eyes flashed.

Jasin took the cup of water Amalia passed to him. He was likely dehydrated. Like their prisoner, he had not been given food or water for some time. "What happened?"

"I had my quarry, he was an easy enough roach to follow through the streets- not very well trained if he had attended any sort of training at all." She shrugged, "I just did not realize how deep into the shadows I chased the maggot. I had my quarry and a second party was there for me. Dark shadow scavengers." She shrugged and wiped off some of the dried blood that clung to her chin in a line down from a split in her lip. "I stowed the boy in one of the safe houses, figured it'd be a lot less toting a body around, and I would be less likely to be seen."

Jasin nodded. "Good thinking. Who'd you get? Anyone useful?"

"He's a bit more refined than the thugs that attacked me, but not by much. Definitely paid by someone a rank higher in the dreg food chain, and probably working for the people we're taking a keen interest in. He was following me, and ran when I caught his eye."

"Better than nothing," Jasin said, rubbing his chin. "Good work. Matthias, I'm too busy here to be able to go and interrogate them. I want you to handle it." Matthias nodded and rose. "Before you go, though, make sure to heal up Nivenh'Mia."

Nivenh'Mia rolled her eyes and rose to standing. "Forget it. I heal just fine on my own." She hobbled off, presumably to sleep off the worst of it.

Jasin's lips compressed in a thoughtful line, but he did not say anything on it, instead shaking his head and turning, saying, "I have some time during my current beating into submission. I am going to take a nap."

~*~*~*~*~

The safe house was dingy and broken down. The remains of a rose garden still grew at the front, the thorny bushes now grew wild and untamed. Shutters hung lifeless and at angles off of their hinges. There were several shingles missing from the roof, causing a trickle inside the house during rainstorms. It caused the inside of the building to smell musty and wet and earthy. Its broken and boarded windows stared out forlorn at those who passed it. It was much like the others up and down the street.

It was cheap to rent and located in the part of town where people did not visit or get to know their neighbors. Such things were dangerous here.

He found their captive securely bound to a thick wooden chair in one of the inner rooms. Matthias pulled the coarse sack bag off the man's head, who moaned and blinked his eyes at the light streaming in through the window where one of the planks had been ripped free. The young man had been positioned so the light would fall directly on his face. When torturing information from someone, it was good to never miss an opportunity to bring them discomfort. Thinking ahead was a must.

"Wakey wakey, rise and shine!" Matthias said cheerfully, pulling up a chair in front of the man, who was starting to slowly tug at the bonds that tied him to his chair. He had coarse, dirty hair that had not seen any water stronger than a thin rain in some time, by the looks of it. The rest of him neither looked -nor smelled- much better. There was one large bruise forming on his jaw, probably where Nivenh'Mia knocked the lad out, otherwise he looked unscathed. Matthias sat down, straddling his chair, resting his arms on the backrest.
"How're we feeling this morning? Good? No? Drinking will do that to you, you know. They warn about the dangers of drinking- and poorly following mercenaries around- bad for your health, or haven't you heard? Ah well, let this be one of life's lessons then."

The young man looked at Matthias dubiously, "You're-you're going to let me live?"

"Did I say that?" he said cheerfully. "I don't recall saying that. Maybe. It depends on how helpful, open and honest you are in the next couple of hours. Well, helpful and open. I will determine how honest you are." Matthias smiled. The kid looked fit to piss himself in spite of the toothy reassurance. "So go ahead parakeet, talk. Who are your masters?"

He spent the next hour finding out what the boy knew, jotting down names and places. By the end, he wished Amalia had been chosen for the task. He was not a fan of the letters and his hand cramped in protest. Once he had gleaned all that he assumed he was going to get from the kid, he watered it before replacing the bag over his head.

"Don't worry. Someone will be back to let you -or your entrails- out should the names prove worth my while." Matthias patted the youth on the shoulder before leaving.

He returned to the warehouse where he roused Nivenh'Mia. Her bruises had set in and now she really looked a mess. But her eyes burned into him and he held back his belated offer to heal her and instead offered her half the list of names and places he had gotten from her contract. They parted with the plan to meet back at the warehouse in five hours with their findings.

Half an hour after that, Matthias strongarmed thier captive leader out of the crate for another beating and information session. Jasin was looking a little worse for wear. Apparently the water he had drank the last time they had pulled him out had been seeped from him in the warm interior of the crate. If he looked that bad, then their real prisoner was probably in worse shape. Matthias half turned away and gave his briefing as Jasin relieved himself.

"Not a lot of usefulness came from the names and places the little runt gave, but--"

"He name a blacksmith's shop or a warehouse or anything like that?"

Matthias looked up and away with a sigh, dredging up the memory, "Only the two biggest warehouses on the Island. One smithy."

"Those are places of interest for us," Jasin told them as he sat down at the table they did their interrogations at.

"Why a blacksmith?" Nivenh'Mia had been waiting a polite distance away and rejoined the discussion when they returned to the area outside the crate.

"Easiest place to store weapons. Hide them in plain sight, and there's nothing wierd about walking in with a crate of them 'for repair', ostensibly, or walking out with them." He shrugged, rubbing his shoulders as he did, "We can check there tonight. The warehouses will take longer, and we won't even be able to get through one. But we might get lucky."

"The rest were inns, taverns, or stores," Matthias said, as if going through the list in his head.

"Drop points. Meeting places. Highly public for the most part, and very loud at some parts of the day. Nearly impossible to eavesdrop."

"All we can do there is wait, watch, and hope we get lucky," Matthias muttered.

"Yea, they'll just get added to the Towers' list of places to keep an eye on. Same with the names." Jasin glanced out the window at the night sky, then back again at the lit up cell, balls of the One Power lighting it up through the holes they'd put in the container. "Was losing track of time a bit, let's check out the smith now." He sat down to write a note to Amalia about what they were doing.

----- X-Day Minus Twelve Days -----

The Tower guard wasn't the best, but that much had always been obvious with how the Tower ran things. It was rare to find them leaving the best recruits to run units for the Guard. Often they were recruited for the Gaidin and thrown through the intense training. This was no more shown to Jasin than that night when they crossed the southwest bridge to Alindaer and the squad keeping watch didn't notice a thing about Jasin for all the only thing he'd changed about himself was his hair color. Oh...if he had his way with their training. But then, he wouldn't be able to do what he needed to tonight. They'd checked his description against the artists' drawings they'd gotten of him and Jax, but nothing registered. They took record of their names, neither Jasin, nor Matthias, nor Nivenh'Mia giving their actual names. It was child's play.

They were now a block away from the blacksmith owned and worked in by Allien. Or Ellien, Jasin wasn't even sure of the name. There was probably an accent in there that hinted at the man being from Tanchico. He was just beyond caring. He wanted this whole mess to fix itself so he could go home and have a decent night's sleep for the first time in a month. Maybe two.

One thing was certain he was glad to be out of the crate and back into the thick of things, back in the action. It was one thing being cloistered away pretending to be kin and kith to their Questioner captive, it was important, actually, but being free again... Jasin tried to remind himself that right now, in the mind of their captive, he was being beat into submission. Jasin supposed that meant another beating from Nivenh'Mia, and for that he was glad she had been knocked around a bit after apprehending the kid from the bar- a taste of her own medicine, so to speak.

A block from the blacksmith's, he stood in an alley with Nivenh'Mia and Matthias, bag of gear over his shoulder while they carried nothing. She still looked rough in spite of recieving a minor healing from Matthias, but she did not seem too concerned with the cosmetic defects. "One favor Niv," he said as he unshouldered the bag.

"Hmm...?" she asked, turning her gaze from the flanking rooftops to her employer.

"Tie up your hair for ten minutes. If someones in there I don't want them able to grab at it." She gave him a bland look, that with her bruises looked more sad than questioning or angry. Jasin tossed Matthias an unloaded hand crossbow. When he looked back, there was still a deadpan look on her face. "Look," he said, "it's an enclosed space. If they get a hold of it it won't matter how good a fighter you are, they'll have you."

An exasperated sigh, and she started tying it up. The glare she was giving the buildings around him should've broke them down. "At least you're letting me wear my own clothes and not this scratchy cotton."

"I find it hard to believe that you can have such a thick hide that you can take a beating," Matthias said, eyeing the mercenary dryly, "But can't handle something as simple as cotton. What are those strips of fabric made out of anyway?"

"Skinned babies," she answered before turning her attention fully to her weapon.

Jasin almost sighed in relief. He handed her another crossbow when she was done. "No channeling unless absolutely necessary," he said, holding onto the artifact bolts for a second for emphasis as he handed them to Matthias. He got a nod in return as he let them go. He handed another set to Nivenh'Mia and loaded his own crossbow as they did. "Niv, you have the back. We kick down the door in three minutes."

She ran off to the other end of the alley, leaving Jasin and Matthias to wait, giving her a lead time so they weren't too far apart. Two minutes later, he glanced at the Asha'man and nodded, rushing into the street, crossbow leading the way poiting toward the front door of the blacksmith. He could hear Matthias walking quickly behind him, backing him up. A dozen yards from the door and Jasin took off at a run, leading into the door with a kick, breaking the wooden frame. A second later, the back entrance to the shop kicked open, Nivenh'Mia heading in opposite them.

Jasin swept the work area. With no movement, he signalned Nivenh'Mia to take the back rooms and led Matthias to the material storage in the basement. He pulled open the cellar door to pitch blackness. "Light," he whispered. Light flared up behind him as he went down, woven bright enough by the Asha'man that he wasn't blinded, but could see everything clearly. It was a average sized storage room, mostly boxes of different grades of steel for use in the blacksmith's work.. Or so he guessed. He and the Asha'man split up and went through the room, aisle by aisle, row by row. "Clear up!" they heard Nivenh'Mia announce as they were half done.

"Clear down!" Jasin announced, almost as one with Matthias, when they finished. He heard the two doors shut before steps came down into the basement. He led him back to an empty spot in the room.

"Anything down here?" she asked.

"No," Jasin said. "And that's the problem." he knelt down to look at the dust on the floor. The floor was dusty, like it hadn't been swept in months. There was an outline of a stack of crates.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Matthias asked.

"A month ago," Jasin told him quietly. " Someone smuggled a shipment of crossbows through the island. A few of them were left behind." Jasin looked at them both. "I think this confirms what we're dealing with. Let's get out of here before the man knows he's compromised."

Alone for once, Amalia allowed herself a moment of respite. With a sigh she leaned back on her chair, closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Jax was still about the building, standing guard so no one could sneak up on them, but here in the little room where she had spent so much time listening to the prisoners, she was alone. The eavesdropping weave was still there in case the Whitecloak started talking to himself, but he was quiet.

Opening her eyes, she reached for the small stack of sheets and began reading her transcript. Her hand was usually plain, yet haste had made it untidier than usual. At times she had to stop and correct her writing to make it more readable, yet she left various shortcuts as they were. Amazing how much the prisoner had said without revealing anything of importance. The blank sheet beside it, intended for any possibly important bit and pieces, got only a few notations while she worked through the sheets.

By the time Jax announced the others` return, she was almost finished. Hastily she read through the last few lines and then got up to meet with the others. None of them looked pleased.
“Bad news?”, she asked.

“Yeah. They did have crossbow bolts there, but they were moved about a month ago.” For a moment, Amalia was entirely still, considering the news. Her head was aching, yet she wasn`t comfortable enough with the strange people she was working with to let her guard down and allow them to see behind the mask of an Aes Sedai.
“So we`re stuck,” she concluded. “Those bolts are probably somewhere in Tar Valon and supposed to be used in the White Tower.”

Jasin nodded.
“I don`t think we`ll get anything more out of the prisoner,” he added, sounding almost indifferent. Only a slight relaxation about the set of his shoulders betrayed his relief at not having to pretend anymore. And at not being beaten anymore, probably.
“Do you want Healing?”

Dismissively, Jasin waved a hand.
“Later. Right now, we need to figure out what to do. I suppose they`ll use those bolts soon, so we´ll have to be on guard.”
Remembering something Atlan had told her a few days ago, Amalia suppressed a curse.
“We may still have a few days. A delegation from the Black Tower is scheduled to arrive at the White Towers in a few days. I don`t know when exactly, but it certainly presents an opportunity for sowing more chaos than simply attacking the White Tower does.”

Jax muttered a curse, then looked at her apologetically. The others were silent; Jasin frowned worriedly and even Matthias looked a little worried while Nivenh`Mia seemed absolutely unperturbed.
“I may know a way of keeping the Asha`man out of this,” Amalia continued, “and I can pass along an unspecific warning to the Greens. Also, I can get all of us into the White Tower via gateway anytime.”

“That sounds like a start,” Jasin commented. “If need be, we fight them on Tower grounds.”
“How do you think we can find them? The White Tower isn`t exactly small,” Amalia commented sceptically. She didn`t like the idea of fighting on Tower grounds one bit. That way, sisters would die for sure. Besides, with sisters milling around, the situation would get confusing. And what if the Black Ajah was involved as well? What if Jasin, Jax and Nivenh`Mia came up against a channeler intending to kill them?

“Easy. They have a good number of bolts, but not enough to seriously attack the White Tower. They`ll have targets for assassination, all the important people. We need to secure those first.”
Amalia sighed.
“All right. You go ahead figuring out how we can find out about the exact time of the attack while I go and pass along warnings.”

She was already embracing Saidar as Jasin spoke.
“One more thing. We don`t need to two prisoners anymore. Could you hand them over to someone you trust? Would be better if we don`t have to care for them.”
“Why not the Tower intelligence? It might help to clear your name and let them know what`s going on.”
“I don`t know everyone there. Better to keep to number of those who know what we know small. The fewer people know, the less likely it is that whoever is behind all this figures out we`re on to him.”

“All right. In that case I`ll hand them over to some Greens I trust. I`ll return in an hour or two to pick them up.” This time, no one stopped her as she wove a gateway. A silver line appeared in the air before her, rotating into an opening. She stepped through and let go of it. Unsurprisingly, her living room still looked as she had left it. Quickly, she checked her wards before she went in search of a handpicked number of Greens. Being out of the Tower as often as she was, Amalia knew comparatively few sisters well and she trusted only a handful.

In the hallway, she met Serina, the blonde Green who had told her about Miyari`s murder.
“Amalia! Finally you`re back. I was already beginning to worry about you.”
Amalia smiled at her.
“I didn`t even get scratched since I last saw you. However, I found out something.”

“Would you like a cup of tea?” Amalia blinked in surprise, then realized what the question really meant.
“Yes, please.”

Once they were in Serina`s rooms, Amalia wove an inverted weave against eavesdropping. Serina raised her eyebrows.
“What is it?”
“You remember the crossbow bolt Saidar cannot touch?”

“Of course.”
“It`s not the only one. A number of them have been smuggled into Tar Valon.”
“Light! You think someone`s planning to attack?”
“It`s likely. The very fact Saidar cannot touch them means they`re aimed at us. And whoever has them went to some effort to get them here.”

“Bloody and ashes. We`ll have Asha`man visiting soon.”
“I heard. I don`t know when the attack will be, but I guess it`ll happen while they are here. Bar the Ajah`s entrance if alarm sounds, check everyone for weapons. Make sure our Sitters and the Captain-General don`t walk the hallways on their own.”

Serina nodded.
“And I guess you want to keep it secret?”
“The fewer people know we`re expecting something, the greater our chance to surprise them.”
“Or to be surprised in turn,” Serina muttered. This time, it was Amalia who raised her eyebrows.
“Does the Green Ajah need time for preparation when alarm sounds? We are the Battle Ajah, Serina. We must protect our sisters.”

“At least the Captain-General will have to know. Then we can put standard security protocols into operation the moment something happens. Since you sound like you aren`t going to stay, I can do that for you.”
“Thanks, but I`d rather talk to Mindora myself. I haven´t seen her in some time and I`d like to get an impression. Afterwards, I will leave again. I still have questions that need answers. Hopefully, I`ll be here when the attack begins.”

In any ordinary situation, Amalia would have avoided talking to the Captain-General herself. She preferred keeping a distance from those in her Ajah who could order her around, preferred to remain unnoticed. But this was no ordinary situation and she needed to be absolutely certain Mindora understood. At least there was nothing about Mindora which indicated that she might be Black.

All the talking took time and when she was done, more than an hour had passed. Back in her quarters, she took a deep breath and wove another gateway. It was time for the second difficult task of the day.

*

In his office, Atlan leaned back on his chair and looked at her questioningly.
“Yes, the room is warded,” he said in reply to her question.
“The delegation to the White Tower will have to be careful. Shipments of crossbow bolts were smuggled into Tar Valon. The One Power can`t touch the arrow heads. I don`t know who`s behind this, but I`m pretty sure there will be an attack during your stay at the White Tower.”

Atlan`s grey eyes were as hard as steel.
“We`ll take every attacker down. They`ll be dead before they fire a shot.” It was exactly what Amalia had expected. Unfortunately, it was also what she had to prevent.
“What if the Black Ajah is involved, too? Fighting between Asha`man and Aes Sedai, no matter the cause, could lead to a catastrophe. The White Tower has to handle this, Atlan. They are warned and they know what to do. Please, Atlan, let the White Tower handle this and keep the Asha`man out of the way. Give out an order no one is supposed to leave the quarters alone or at night. When alarm rings, keep everyone together. I know it`s not what you want, but your help may do more harm than good.”

“Without our help, casualties among your sisters may be higher.”
“I know,” Amalia agreed sadly. “But your help could lead to desaster. The Aes Sedai will be highly nervous. Accidents can happen too quickly. Maybe that is exactly what is planned. If there´s one of the Second Chosen behind this, I`m willing to bet the plan is more complicated than just sending a few assassins in.”

Grudgingly, Atlan nodded.
“All right. I`ll keep them under control.”

*

By the time Amalia delivered the prisoners she was beginning to feel thoroughly tired – not because of channeling, but because of worry about the future. She had already seen one attack on Tar Valon. The Light send this one wouldn`t turn into such a desaster. Waiting for this to happen without being able to do anything to prevent it was going to be a sore trial for her inner strength.

Returning to Jasin and the others, she released Saidar and took a seat, careful not to let any emotion show.
“Well, what`s the plan?”

"Well," Jasin started as she finished. "First I need to confirm a few facts. The Diplomatic Function has been planned for past few months, rumors floating around the Island. There's a public party hosted by the Tower on the third night?" He poured an extra cup of the Seanchan Kaff for her, more like a delicacy this far north, but it gave more of a kick than the traditional teas from the North did. One of the bonuses of working with the Underworld. You worked with the smugglers.

"You think that's the night they'll execute their plan?" Amalia asked.

"It's what I'd do," Jasin said as he took a sip of his own. "More servants working. More Guards on duty. The party reaches a crescendo and the attendees tend to go to bed more exhausted than normal."

"Making it a lot easier to get the jump on them," Nivenh'Mia said, finishing the point.

"There are a few other bonuses as well," Jasin continued. "But yes, those are the primary reasons. Visitors are expected, security is more lax for all that there are more Guards. More servants and more Guards makes that avenue of entry easier."

"You say it's what you'd do?" Amalia asked.

"I've...had to...complete a few jobs of my own." Jasin cleared his throat. "Thefts, retrievals, other things." He left the last one open ended, but there probably weren't any guesses from the others as he looked around the table. "Not going into further details, my experience is all I've got to go on here. As we formulate a plan to deal with this, we need every odd thought on how to answer this." He turned back to Amalia, "The Black Tower?"

"They are aware of the threat," she said, straightforward but giving little away. "They will take care of their own, and leave our own to us."

"Good. That saves the politics should anyone from either Tower be caught in the crossfire. Let's get to work."

----- H-Hour Minus Twenty Minutes -----

Eleven days of waiting. It was worse than any stakeout that he'd ever been on. At least the stakeout had him watching something. Here, they were all just waiting for that night. Amalia and Nivenh'Mia were the only ones with things to do. After all of five hours hammering out a plan, Amalia spent much of her time with the Greens getting things together. Nivenh'Mia spent her time going around the city, gathering supplies from a list that the others provided. The rest, they just waited. And waited. And waited.

And then the night came.

They all stood around the desk in the Sylvia Shipping safehouse, gear spread out before them. It was something of a disorganized pile of knives, swords, and other various implements of death, but it didn't start out that way. Jax, Nivenh'Mia, Matthias, Travis, Jeroff, and Amalia stood around it. Amalia was the only one not going through the gear. She was wearing a pair of trousers instead of the usually expected dress, and had two long daggers at her belt.

Jasin had his own gear mostly ready. A bandolier of throwing knives was strapped down his chest, a combat knife at his waist opposite a short sword. A hand crossbow was with the knife, a case of five extra bolts strapped to each knee within easy reach. The last item, a light crossbow, sat in front of him, useful for indoor encounters, quicker to reload than the traditional battlefield crossbow. Certainly, it didn't require a winch to wind it up. There was also a length of rope a hundred feet long that he'd dug up from somewhere in mess of boxes.

"Guys," Jasin said, resting a palm on the stock of his crossbow. He looked around the table, meeting their eyes one by one. "Whatever happens tonight, it's been a hell of a run." He glanced at Jeroff, Nivenh'Mia, and Traviss each in turn, "Can you give us a moment?" The three of them grabbed the rest of their equipment and went to the far end of the room, leaving he and Jax alone with Amalia. He gave her a long look, "This might not seem like much to most people, but for our line of work it's kind of a big thing. Thanks for trusting us."

She gave the two of them a nod, nothing needed to be said. "We're late," she announced, and started walking toward the other three. Jasin and Jax followed after grabbing the last of their gear. The other three met her halfway, and a Gateway tore thorugh the air in the middle of the safehouse, making the space between here and her rooms at the Tower as nothing. One by one they went through, Amalia the last one through.

Jasin didn't have enough time to really register the furnishings in the rooms before she herded them all out into the halls and pointed them in a direction. Down a flight of stairs, and around one of the long hallways led them to one of the main hall of the Greens. The place was crowded, nearly no room to walk around. The other five waited just outside as he followed Amalia toward the center of the room.

"Alright," Jasin announced in a loud, clear voice as they reached the center of the Green's main party hall, where they held their annual Winternight get-together. "There are details that haven't passed beyond my group until now for operational security," he told them as he got up on one of the tables, improvising a podium. "What is said here, is to be considered Sealed until otherwise decided by the Hall." The place was crowded with what he could only assume was every Green on the Island, and maybe a few that weren't there this morning. The number of warders also matched them four to one. Some were bonded, most weren't, borrowed from the Gaidin as they were. "The situation we have is deceptively simple," he told the crowd. "But be ready for some heavy lifting."

Whispers picked up in a few places in the crowd, others went silent. "Confirmed, we have at least twenty five assassins. Confirmed, they are sourced by the Whitecloaks." Whispers picked up again around the room. He raised his voice a little more to talk over them, "Confirmed, they are supplied with crossbow bolts that the One Power cannot block." The room went silent with that. "We do not know if the Twenty Five are the only threat."

"The Rules of Engagement are simple," Jasin said as he pulled the string back on his crossbow and slid a bolt in place. "These people have embedded themselves in the Tower. If they aren't Aes Sedai, and they aren't a Warder, they're to be considered hostile." He shouldered the crossbow again, that done. "Servants, Tower Guards, even unbonded Asha'man. Take them out of the fight. Non-lethal if you can, but don't let them slow you down."

"Play this by the numbers," he continued. "You've been split up into five man teams. Four Warders to each Aes Sedai. There are eighteen teams with only one Aes Sedai and one Warder for mobility. These eighteen are precision strikes to secure the Sitters. The rest, split up between securing the entrances to the quarters, and sweeping them for hostiles. Maintain your fields of responsibility. Nobody goes in, nobody goes out. Every gateway opens to the center of the quarters to avoid shocking the Aes Sedai and scaring the Twenty Five. So we have to move, and we have to move fast. Questions?" Not a one said anything. "Alright, see your commanding Aes Sedai for assignments, Gateways open in ten minutes."

The room became organized chaos as Aes Sedai started talking to each other and Warders made their way to the travelling points. Jasin forced his way against the flow to find Amalia along the wall talking to another one of the Greens, a face he didn't recognize. "Well, well, well," she said as he approached. "Jasin di'Callisto. According to the posters all over the city, merely a Tower Guard." A smile formed as she tied back the red hair from her face. "Something tells me that's not accurate."

"Aes Sedai," Jasin responded with his own smile. "I could tell you the truth," letting a bit of gallows humor through. "But then I'd have to kill you. Not my first choice of action, if I say so myself. Look what being framed has done to me. Imagine if I actually did it," he finished with a grin.

She chuckled, "I like him Amalia. I'd take him for my Sitter if I could."

"Who did we get?" Jasin asked Amalia.

"Jenisi," she told him. "We're the first team through to the Blues." They started making a path to their rally point, just outside the hall. "You never did tell me what the rope you brought is for."

"I don't plan on using the door," he said matter-of-factly.

"You're going to..." she muttered.

"Uh huh," he responded with a nonchalant nod.

"That's either brilliant or crazy," she told him. "I'm not sure which, especially at this height."

"If I survive, brilliant," he said, a gleam of humor in his tone. "If not, how crazy it was will be the last thing on my mind anyway." He turned to the Aes Sedai that was making the Gateway to the Blue quarters and nodded, "Ready."

OCC: Hope this is ok. Sorry I have not posted in awhile, well do from now on

The room became organized chaos as Aes Sedai started talking to each other and Warders made their way to the travelling points. Travis watched as Jasin forced his way against the flow to find Amalia along the wall talking to another one of the Greens he suspected, he had kept his mouth shut and his head low these last few days after the rescue.

It seemed like the best way to stay alive, Jasin and the others had rescued him while Amalia had healed him from near death. Still he was sure they thought him a fool that was in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was a fool but one who had been working for the Tower, a Green Ajah in particular.

Still he felt he owed it to Jasin and the others for getting him out of that very sticky situation. Now he would stay close to them until his dept was paid in full, even if it was unwanted. He was a man of honour, they had saved his life and he would do the same if it took him years to accomplish. It may not happen anytime soon but it would happen.

He pushed through the crowed until he was only a few strides once more from Jasin, Amalia and another Aes Sedai they were talking with. He rested against the wall not wanting to draw the attention of his companions but to be close enough if danger called for his assistance ‘Protection? Aes Sedai don’t need such foolishness’ those words had been spoken to him once before by an Aes Sedai. The women had stolen his heart without noticing and tossed it to the wolves just as quick.

“Well, what have we here? The child of the Tower, what would your mother think of you now I wonder?”

His attention was drawn from his companions to a voice he had hoped not to run into while he was here, still the foolish women was Green Ajah and a noisy one at that. Amy Pronger, Slim and beautiful with long brown hair and penetrating dark blue eyes. She is quite friendly but has a fiery temper.

Wearing a gray riding dress slashed with green she moved closer to him with a small smile “Aes Sedai, my mother would approve I am sure” he nodded to her, which made her smile back at him. The look that a child has when they are playing with there favourite toy “No need for formalities Travis, since I am a close friend of your sisters. Call me Amy” the women placed her self right in front of him.

She stared up at him with those penetrating blue eyes “I believe your mother would, from what I have heard of her she would have been right in the midst of something like this” for some reason she has been interested in his mother and father from the moment he was introduced to her by his sister, the women seemed to always find him within the Tower no matter how well he hid himself.

Yet for some odd reason he felt he could trust her, even though he knew she was trying to use him to her own advantage. She was close to his sister, they were both only new to being Aes Sedai, he was sure it had only a year so either of them had the ageless face. The women had told his sister she would like to bond him to her, lucky for him he had over heard and left the Tower that very night. He was not going to be any Aes Sedai’s lapdog, he may find his work from them but he had his own reasons why.

“What brings you here Amy, you do know what is about to happen here” the women reached up and brushed hair out of his face “I should be asking you the same, I have a right to be here. I will always fight for what is best for the Tower’s future, even if it means my death” the look on her face told him only one thing, she meant it.

“I have business with our friends Jasin and Amalia, until that is settled I shall be a shadow to them” the women glanced over at his two companions then back to him, studying him still like her personal plaything “I see, then we shall finish this after everything has calmed down a little. I believe we have not settle our business from the last time we met” the women gave him a smile and disappeared into the crowd, he lost sight of her almost straight away.

The women seemed to still want to bond him for what reason he did not know, he was never able to understand women or Aes Sedai. He was going to to have to make a very quick exit once all was settled here, that women was not going to get her hands on him no matter what she or his sister wanted. He was a free man and he was going to stay that way until he was dead and buried.

He relaxed against the wall once more with ease, he would deal with that woman one day but he would be pulling the strings that day, he hoped. He watched Jasin and Amalia as they exchanged words, he would keep his word and honour this time around. This time he would not let fear over come him so easily, he had to succeed.

The coming of the night, he reflected, was his favourite source of inspiration. The insidious touch of darkness was barely perceptible to the thoughts of Man as it worked slowly but surely on the brightness of the day until suddenly, one was drowning in an ocean of blackness. By then, it was already too late to build a lamp to drive away the night.

Such was the way of those leaders of the lands. Every single one of them had been given great power to preserve their sovereignty and their affiliation. Yet most, if not all, of them had been manipulated by self-interest and did not have the political will to do what was right for their side of the conflict. Disunity existed where a common front was the barest essential for the forces of the Light to mount a significant and sustained challenge against the Great Lord. Calls for peace and efforts to seek a common ground were often impeded by the weakness that was called pride and decade old biasness. Shaytan had so much ammunition to use that he could have easily outsourced the job of spreading enmity to one of his trollocs.

Well, maybe not the trollocs but by the Great Lord, this is almost getting too...procedural.

Still, the fractious infighting between the factions of the Shadow was a terrible Achilles heel. It was the only reason why those fools remain standing. It had been waged longer than Shaytan had been alive. Ever since he joined the ranks of the Shadow, the silver haired Second Chosen had to stave off numerous indirect challenges from his colleagues until it became second nature to him. The weakness of jealousy ruled those who belonged to the Shadow as much as those fools of the Light. Change was long overdue.

The game of many games was about to reach its zenith. At last, the final battle of this stage was at hand. This was the critical moment that he had prepared for. The conditions and the pieces were in place to skewer the outcome to his favour. Now, it was time to see how well he could depend on his men to carry it out.

“Xylen.” Like a well oiled machine, the tall borderlander turned his head towards his leader at the sound of his name. “Tell me...what do you think of this? Do you see any weakness?” Shaytan gestured at the map of the battlefield on the long table of his study. Borderlanders excelled at the art of warfare and combat. Their lives depended on it.

“I do, my lord.” His answer was short and to the point. The conveyance of an important message in the shortest possible time was also another trait that he liked about these people. It was truly a pity that most of them chose to oppose the Dark Lord. Barely detected within the neutral tone Xylen adopted was that of mild confusion at the Second Chosen’s placement of his pieces on the battlefield that made them very vulnerable. As a rule, weaknesses were avoided unless a trap was planned. However, there was apparently none to be found for most of these pieces were taken. Or was it subtly hidden?

The silver haired Chosen smirked inwardly as he observed the expression of his men shifted from intense concentration to puzzlement and then to frustration as they began to doubt themselves.

“Do you now?” He asked, colouring his words with a tinge of amusement. Yes, the man would serve his purpose. Shaytan patted the seat next to him. “Join us.”

The other Asha’man, Vilyor, sitting directly opposite the Second Chosen said nothing. Who was he to oppose the whim of one of the most powerful channelers “Chosen” by the Great Lord? And whim? Certainly, that would be the thought that came easiest to the mind. Most would readily classify what they could not follow simply as ‘whim’ and left it at that without bothering to delve deeper. This was the reason why few were in well deserved positions of power.

The ability to empathise, to understand was one which was often underestimated. It was easier to feel for oneself than to be placed in the shoes of another. Know yourself is worth half a victory. Know yourself and your opponent and victory is almost certainly yours. This was true even for the assassins. Having a cold personality did not mean that they were incapable of feeling the emotions of others. Being able to empathise was not the same as being compassionate. Understanding how a person’s feeling was different from showing one’s understanding and reciprocating. Those who excelled in this dark art had predatory instincts of which understanding the prey was a key ingredient. They suppressed their ‘lighter’ emotions and reconciled their actions to various degrees. Just look at his nemesis Shade Shadowslayer. The man was a lethal adversary but what differentiated him from the mass was his talent for maximizing his strengths at his opponent’s weakest moment while minimizing his own weakness.

Even a gholam empathised with its victims. The only killer that did not was simply dead.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shaytan watched the man eased himself into position with a certain serpentine flair that belied his broad frame. Seeing the hallmark of the infamous Lurks reminded him of another ongoing project to construct a regiment of them specially designed to weed out the prominent members of the opposing side. Speed and grace was all and well but entirely avoidable. If the genius that was himself could...enhance their innate ability, it would be akin to Traveling without the One Power and in the presence of the shadow. In a room without light, they would be virtually unreachable by their enemies.

It was a most unsettling thought...for the enemies of the Shadow of course.

The Second Chosen advanced his knight on the chessboard. “Let me make this a little more interesting then. Let us say that a number of opposing players have learnt part of our plans. What do you all think should the next step be?” He questioned, gazing nonchalantly at the crimson pool of wine in his goblet. Within one move, the knight could be placed in a position to threaten the king and the queen.

“Retreat would be a good option, Lord.” Vilyor answered while Xylen grunted his assent. It was a logical move. It was irrational to move against an enemy who already knew that you were coming and took countermeasures. In this case, the Asha’man moved his king from the potentially hazardous position. With most of the pawns freed up, the two Asha’man could move their queen into a central attacking position where her threat prowess would be the greatest.

“Is that so?” Shaytan chuckled mirthfully as he prepared his next move.

******

“Treachery! The White Tower has betrayed us!! Flee for your lives!!” The saidin-enchanced roar was accompanied by several earth shattering blasts that rocked the foundation of the White Tower at several places.

With one shoulder propping one of his wounded comrades, Shadin Echnacha brought him limping back to the rooms designated for the Black Tower delegates. Blood flowed freely from the wounds on his temple and his left leg as the injured man limped to where the remaining male chanelers were. The White Tower guards positioned at the entrance ostensibly for the protection of the delegates were slaughtered to a man. They could not afford to take any chances.

“Sir, those cursed sisters ambushed us as we were heading to the gents and attacked without warning. They wore shawls and proclaimed that the White Tower was the only thing against the Shadow and that we needed to be removed before the Asha’man became mad. We were outnumbered and they picked us of one by one. Dennilus, Krakogan, Javerik and I were the only ones there and we separated to make it difficult for them and to meet back here. We must retreat at once sir. It was a deliberate assault by the White Tower to capture or kill us.”

“Light curse those bloody dogs.” Shadin swore aloud. “And to think our M’hael decided to give them a second chance to clear the air. We must find the others.”

“And risk capture? Remember what was said at the Black Tower, we are on our own should we leave the premise.” Another Asha’man interjected.

“So, we should abandon our people to a fate that these treacherous snakes conceive all for the possession of a gift at birth? Are you such a coward?”

Arguments flew as either side attempted to gain control. Being the second-in-command, Shadin had little challenge in presenting the scenario painted by his brilliant Second Chosen. The Aes Sedai involved were all thralls that were previously captured and converted by Shaytan LightDestroyer. They had instructions to let at least one male channeler flee the scene while given instructions that provided generous leeway for the rest save for the one darkfriend Asha’man that accompanied the others.

Knowledge of a strike is useless without knowing the manner of its approach. Gripped within the hand of the escaped Asha’man was a burnt red shawl and a ring of pure gold save for the spot of scarlet peeking out like an eye.

“Commander Varik, you know how these sisters are. They will claim that the Asha’man were found in places they were not meant to be and had resisted arrest.” Shadin stated. Come on, where is the signal?

Boom! A blast blew open the front door leading to the quarters of the Asha’man. As if that was not enough, a voice howled “Kill those blasted filth!” Trust the man to know how to push another over the edge.

“Asha’man, counterattack!” Varik shouted as the male channelers hurled weaves of destruction through the opening. “You two! Travel to the Black Tower. The M’hael must hear of this!” The two Asha’man opened gateways and left at once. “We are mounting a rescue operation, gentlemen. Our priority is to extract our men and leave this accursed place.”

There was a pause as Varik continued, his dark brown eyes turning cold and hard. “It is not our intention to kill anyone but if you should encounter any resistance, you have my permission to do what is necessary to rescue our men. Now move.”

The mood in the party hall was unusually tense, quite fitting for the situation at hand. With Saidar filling her, Amalia could hear nearby sisters quietly instructing – or, in some cases, arguing with – their Gaidin. The men certainly were not be pleased about the existence of a weapon their Aes Sedai could do nothing against. For once, the larger number of Warders many Greens bonded would prove to be a real advantage.

Only the most experienced Greens had been chosen to secure the Sitters. Amalia hoped they would not encounter much resistance; hardly any of those had more than one Warder. Mobility was all good and well, yet even experienced Greens tended to rely heavily on the One Power as their first and only weapon. Hopefully they would have the presence of mind to simply burn any crossbow to ashes before a shot could be fired.

Not that the crossbow bolts were likely to be the only danger. Anyone with the resources to stage this certainly was quite capable of commanding Darkfriend channelers to join the fray. Amalia`s own preparations took that into account even as she spoke to Serina. An inverted weave to hide he ability to channel. Numerous defensive weaves, all inverted. Surprise was a powerful weapon.

As Jasin appeared out of the crowd, Amalia could not help a stab of both amusement and hurt. Amusement due to his extensive weaponry, hurt because she would be the only Green tonight not protected by her own Warder. She was fully aware that it was her own fault; she could have bonded men with nothing else to do than guard her. Atlan was in the Tower, close enough for her to sense his tension mirrored her own. For some reason, it soothed her to know he was as battle-ready as she was. They might not be fighting side by side in a literal sense, but on a much more important level, they were doing just that. The same held true for Davin, but she did not allow herself to concentrate on the bond with him, knowing it would only distract her. She needed to focus.

„Ready,“ Jasin said, nodding to the Green who stood ready. As the woman began weaving, Amalia sensed someone closing in on her. She whirled around, throwing daggers flashing into her hands lightning-quick, weaves ready to leap at – Travis. Widened sky blue eyes stared at her as Amalia let out a breath, sheathing the throwing daggers back into her sleeves.

“Don`t creep up on me ever again,” she told him, outwardly calm. Light, the man ought to know better.
“Sorry. I wanted to make sure I wouldn`t be left behind. Plus, it`s a bit crowded here.”
Amalia gave Jasin a questioning glance; the Tower agent shook his head slightly. So Travis had not been assigned to them.

“Why do you want to come?” Travis looked back her steadily, his clear gaze unwavering.
“You saved my life, both of you,” he stated. Well, that was true enough. Considering he had hardly done anything remarkable since, Amalia wasn`t sure about his abilities, yet his hand rested confidently on the hilt of his sword.

“Very well. Then I`ll have two acting Warder tonight. Although… would you mind invisibility, Jasin?”
A slow grin spread over Jasin`s face. “That will be fun.”
“But behave yourself,” Amalia warned him as she wove. A moment later, Jasin vanished from view.

“There. You can still be heard, so be careful. Continue,” Amalia added, turning towards the Green who had stopped weaving the gateway. The women nodded and a moment later, the silver slash rotated into an opening. The hallway looked empty and Amalia stepped through first, immediately followed by Travis.

Quietly they hurried across the blue tiled floors. Amalia had rarely been inside the Blue`s quarters, yet she had been given directions. Jenisi´s quarters would be easy to find. Saidar filled her, almost as much as she could hold unaided, yet she heard no one except them. Blunt flows of Air swept the corridor in front of them, made to reveal anyone who had made herself invisible.

Suddenly one of them struck a barrier where there should be none. Immediately Amalia lashed out with Spirit kept ready, to slice any weave, quickly side-stepping at the same time. A soft hissing noise and a bolt came flying out of nowhere, destroying the invisibility the man had woven around himself as it shot towards the place Amalia had been a heartbeat before. A hammer of Air struck the arrow shaft down, slowing the bolt.

That was all she could do before the first attack. Prepared weaves of Spirit barely sliced whatever it was that had been thrown against her; a lance of Fire suffered the same fate and then Amalia attacked. Razor-sharp flows of Air, rapid fireballs, a weave of Earth and Fire to let the ground beneath his feet explode. Each was countered. The man was at least as strong in the Power as she herself was.

Travis` sword leapt out of its sheath. Amalia flung out her left hand.
“Stay where you are!” The closer he stayed to her, the easier it was for her to protect him as well as herself. Without being able to see the man`s flows, it was strenuous and the knowledge that he had the same disadvantage regarding her weaves did not help.

Apart from Fireballs, of course. They were quite visible, intentionally so. The man laughed as another of them disappeared before touching him.
“You are pathetic. Give up or die.” Air lashed at him, again and again. Another fireball. Amalia grunted as the impact of Air, detected almost too late, sent her stumbling back a few paces. Pain seared through her thigh, though it could only have been a blunt blow. Sometimes, enhanced senses were a true disadvantage.

A blinding white light appeared between them, too far before him for his normal defences to slice. A dagger flew from her hand and immediately she changed her position again, closely followed by Travis. Then she let go of the light and at the same time, she heard a stifled scream. Blinking rapidly, she tried to clear her vision from the dancing spots, make out shapes in the sudden darkness.

“He`s dead,” Jasin called. Amalia wove a small globe of light, the weave only slightly faltering as her eyes recovered. The man lay on the floor, her dagger sticking out from his chest and blood pooling out of his throat.
“Who got him first?”, Amalia asked into the air.

“You did. He had good defences.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I`m fine.”
Amalia nodded and retrieved her dagger, cleaning it on the Darkfriend`s clothes before sheathing it again.

“Sorry you couldn`t do much, Travis,” she said as she straightened. “But the night is young yet. Let`s get to Jenisi before half of the Blue Ajah descend on us with questions.”